


Trees

by Thanks_for_the_letters



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I tried my best, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Letters' Smut-Free Guarantee™, Realisation of feelings, Religious Conflict, and that makes her difficult to write, but also Christmas Angst, religion is important to Kate, very introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanks_for_the_letters/pseuds/Thanks_for_the_letters
Summary: Graphite pencils were organised from 6B to 6H, though she rarely used the harder-leaded ones. Her enormous range of colouring pencils were laid out too, creating a spectrum that nearly crossed the entirety of her desk. A collection of erasers and sharpeners had been compiled, as they’d no doubt be needed, and a large ream of high-quality drawing paper sat fresh out of the packaging. Everything had been neatly laid-out, and while the order wouldn’t last, it was always helpful to have a definite place to put things when you weren’t using them.Kate has an epiphany. Kate and Max make Christmas cards.29/12/19: I'm not really happy with what I've written here, so I'm going to revisit the doc and make some changes, and extend a few scenes maybe. Th edits should go up some time in January, and if I haven't posted them, please leave a comment yelling at me!
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Kate Marsh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Trees

**Author's Note:**

> AU because Max saves everyone, also Kate was admitted on a 40-day suicide watch instead of being released on Friday because seriously, the poor bean needs help. If you want to know, Blackwell is paying for it.
> 
> Title is stolen from the song of the same name by The Oh Hellos, which I listened to extensively while writing.

Golden light poured through the dorm room window, falling softly across the floor, the chest of drawers against the far wall. The mirror next to the door reflected some of the light back into the room. Outside, the setting Saturday sun bathed the city of Arcadia Bay in its tones of polished brass. A few of the fishing boats were out at sea, gliding gently across the serene surface of the Pacific waters. Kate Marsh sat at her desk, her honey-hued hair tied up in its usual bun, her black cardigan swapped for a burgundy jumper, but otherwise retaining her usual skirt and blouse. The golden crucifix that adorned her neck had been polished especially that morning, and it sparkled in the light of dusk. She busied herself organising her art supplies for the evening ahead. Graphite pencils were organised from 6B to 6H, though she rarely used the harder-leaded ones. Her enormous range of colouring pencils were laid out too, creating a spectrum that nearly crossed the entirety of her desk. A collection of erasers and sharpeners had been compiled, as they’d no doubt be needed, and a large ream of high-quality drawing paper sat fresh out of the packaging. Everything had been neatly laid-out, and while the order wouldn’t last, it was always helpful to have a definite place to put things when you weren’t using them.

Content with her preparations so far, Kate turned to look around her room. Much like her supplies, it was neat and organised, rather like it was before October. When Kate had come back from the hospital last month, her room had still been a mess. There were still clothes everywhere, the blinds were still closed, the mirror was still covered, and everything was covered in dust. The whole thing had reminded her too much of that dark headspace she had been in. Thankfully, she had the help of her saviour.

Kate could not thank God enough for Max Caulfield.The brunette had saved her life, and then saved her _life._ Ever since she had talked Kate down from the dorms, Max had done everything to help her. During her time in hospital, Max had been there every single day, from the end of her last class, until someone kicked her out. When Kate couldn’t be in class, she caught Kate up on classwork, even the things Max wasn’t that good at, like Math. When the police told her just what had happened to her the night of The Party, Max had held her for hours as she cried until her throat hurt and she felt sick. When Kate had felt down one morning and texted Max from the hospital, the brunette had walked straight out of class, not bothering to take her bag with her or explain what was going on to anyone, and straight to Kate’s room in twenty minutes, before wrapping the blonde girl in a hug the second she arrived. When she couldn’t bring Alice in to Kate, she texted her photos of the rabbit every morning. When Kate’s faith had been shaken by her experience, Max had spent an entire week helping her find it, simply because it was important to the christian woman. And for the longest time, she had no idea why.

* * *

It was towards the end of November, and the two women were in Kate’s room at the hospital, simply enjoying the comfortable quiet that had nestled into the room. It had become dark outside at around six, and now the stars shone through the window, creating a spectacular sky. The bedside lamp had been turned on to keep the dark at bay, but the main lights were off to preserve the sight of the night. Max sat on one of the mediocre hospital chairs beside the bed, and Kate sat up against the pillows. The brunette was looking at her phone, chatting with Chloe over text. The light from the screen framed her face in a dim white glow, like a studio light, highlighting the small smile at the corner of her mouth. The blonde sat with her sketchbook open, taking advantage of the way the light cast shadows over the woman’s soft features. She looked perfect in that moment. What had she done to deserve her time and attention? Max was probably as close to a person as one could get. So why did she spend all of her free time with her? The artist had asked her as such several times. This time, Kate was determined to get an answer.

“Max?”

“Huh?” The brunette asked, slipping her phone into her pocket. “What’s up, Kate?”

“Can you answer something for me? And please, be honest with me?”

Max almost recoiled, hurt by the implication that she’d lie to the other woman. “Uh, yeah, Kate. Of course!”

Lord forgive her, she was going to sound ungrateful, but she really had to know. “Why do you do all of this? Why go to such great lengths to help me? You don’t ask for anything in return. Nothing at all! So why do all of these things for me, if you get nothing out of it?”

Max hesitated, seemingly shocked that she’d have to explain it. “You’re my friend Kate. You deserve it. This is just what friends do for each other.” Max stated, with such conviction and sincerity in her voice that Kate would never forget it.

Kate cried at that.

And the brunette did what she always did, and held her, rubbing soothing shapes into her back. Kate clutched to the photographer as tight as she could, leaning over herself and the edge of the bed. Max was solid, and grounding, and didn’t seem to care that this extremely emotional woman was soaking the shoulder of her favourite hoodie in grateful tears. Soon enough, Kate had cried herself out, and she eased herself off the brunette. Her hands came to rest on the Christian’s shoulders, where she stroked lightly with her thumb. Kate lifted her head up again, to meet mahogany hair framing a freckled face, eyes like the deepest ocean filled with adoring emotion, catching the yellows cast by the bedside lamp, and…

_oh._

* * *

Kate blitzed through her bible in a week, frantically searching for some confirmation that God hadn’t Damned her. That she wasn’t going to be forsaken, doomed to burn in sulphur and flame. She found nothing of the sort, which helped a little. After all, if homosexuality was as much as a sin as her mother had made it seem, would it not have been mentioned? Would the prophets not have cried against it? Would Christ not have denounced it? Matthew had some hope to give her.

_Matthew 7:1 Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you._

For God was the only one who could judge her. And if He would not judge her for loving another woman, then no-one else was right to judge her. Oh, God, she loved Max, didn’t she?

But Matthew brought forth new questions.

_Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves._

_\- Matthew 7:15_

Kate had gone to the same church, every Sunday with her mother, for as long as she could remember. They had told her, regularly, that homosexuality was a sin. But every one of God’s Commandments could be fulfilled by loving others and loving God. Man had no right to judge himself. Would judging someone for being gay not therefore be against God? Had her mother and her church been trying to lead her astray? Were they false prophets, like Matthew had warned of? She might not have always agreed with her mother, but she loved her. Kate had trusted her, and yet…

Kate had been lied to.

Kate had nearly been conned into abandoning her principles.

Kate had been betrayed, by the woman she had trusted her entire life, and by the community she had once called her family.

Kate was lost and alone. So she prayed for the strength to persevere; to not fall back into the hole she had just escaped.

_Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word._

_\- Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians, 2:16–17_

Kate prayed for guidance, and acceptance from herself and others.

_God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference._

_\- Serenity prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr_

Max was there for her yet again. Even when she didn’t know why Kate was so distraught. She didn’t ask, just held Kate. Promised to listen to her. Swore to do everything she could to make things better.

For once, she was reluctant to accept Max’s help. It made her feel dirty, like she was wrong to feel better around her. But then if it was wrong, surely God would not let her find refuge with the brunette? If He didn’t want her to feel this way, wouldn’t he have kept the two from meeting? He had a plan, and Max was evidently a part of his plan for her. In what capacity, Kate didn’t know.

She thanked God for blessing her, and loved Max even more.

* * *

Kate’s rumination ended with almost uncannily perfect timing, as a series of panicked footsteps thundered across the hall and concluded in frantic knocking at her door, along with a loud, anxious muttering. Chuckling to herself, she crossed the room, a voice outside rapidly cursing itself under its breath. Kate pulled the handle down, only for the door to fly open from the extra weight the lock had been supporting falling through onto the floor. Kate couldn’t help it, her chuckling bursting into full on laughter as she caught sight of the mess at her feet A reddening Max Caulfield stared up at her, looking particularly gorgeous in a sandy jacket, white shirt and black jeans. Neither of them had made much of a concession to the holiday season yet, but it was only the 7th, so it was excusable. Kate knelt down next to the brunette, concerned as to whether she had hurt herself.

“Hi, Kate. Sorry I’m late. Um… nice weather weather we’re having?” Max said as she sat up, pink-faced.

“Max, you just fell through my door and onto the floor. Are you OK?” the blonde girl asked incredulously.

“Not… not really. The back of my head aches. Thank god for carpet, right?”

“Thank God you missed my sofa. Go sit down, I’ll get your stuff together.”

“Kate, you don’t have to do that…” Max attempted to dissuade her.

The christian woman was _not_ having it. “No, but you just hurt yourself, and I really don’t mind. You know what, go lie down on the bed, and grab one of the spare pillows. They’re the extra soft ones. Do you want an Ice pack? I can run and grab one.”

“I should be alright. Thanks Kate.” Max wandered over and laid down, gingerly resting her head on the pillows, which earned an appreciative hum.

Kate set about gathering Max’s things beside the bed. It wasn’t a difficult task, Max had only really dropped her pencil case. She had been clutching her prized messenger bag as she had fallen, but the blonde woman still made a point to check the condition of the camera she knew the photographer was never more than a few feet from. A rectangular white box, she had been given the 600-series Polaroid by her friend Chloe about a month after arriving at Blackwell. The camera had belonged to Chloe’s late father, and was extremely sentimental to both women because of this. Luckily, it seemed no worse for wear. She offered the man a quick prayer as she returned it to the bag, which she placed beside the bed with the battered pencil case.

“You weren’t kidding when you said these pillows were extra soft. I might have to steal one!” Max joked, nestling slightly further into them.

Kate simply giggled as she set about getting out mugs and teabags. She set the kettle to boil. When it had finished, she picked out two bags of chamomile, one for each cup. A plate was set aside for the used teabags. Hot water was poured, and the mugs were gently stirred. She carried over the tea, placing both cups on the desk. Max sat up and took hers. They just sat there for a minute, revelling in each other’s presence.

“Max”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you fall through my door?” Kate asked, still reeling.

“Oh. I was late, and I was still tired, y’know? So I figured if I leaned against your door, I’d be more awake by the time you opened it and I wouldn’t fall through it.” the brunette anxiously admitted.

“Why were you so tired?”

Max proceeded to tell Kate about how she had spent the entirety of yesterday helping to decorate the Price household, and had only got back at about 5am. It had been rather more labour intensive without David, but it had probably been one of the easiest since William’s passing. Chloe had been uncontainably excited, now that she didn’t have to worry about the sorry excuse she used to have for a step-father. This had the knock-on effect of causing Joyce to beam constantly, thrilled to see her once closed-off daughter so openly expressive. They’d grabbed every box of decorations from the attic they had, which was a _lot._ The three women went all out. They had a lot of lights to hang, and damn it if they weren’t going to hang every single string. There were lights in the bathroom, for crying out loud! Every ornament that wasn’t broken was flung on the tree, to the point that one had difficulty picking out the actual tree. The tree had been put in the corner opposite the fireplace, between the floor-to-ceiling windows and the TV. And when Chloe hoisted Max up to put the star on the top that had to be bent to the side because they bought too big of a tree, Joyce would freely admit to crying. After that, they had just sat on the couch, looking at it and drinking gratuitous amounts of hot chocolate. Chloe had dropped her back to Blackwell, and she had passed out as soon as she got into bed.

“That sounds like a really good time.” Kate noted

“It was. I’d missed decorating with Chloe’s family. We never put much effort into holidays.”

“Well, you can this year. You do remember why we’re here, right Max?”

“Yeah, totally. We’re making christmas cards! We planned this two days ago Kate, my memory isn’t that bad.”

“Just getting us back on track. Not that I didn’t enjoy listening to you or anything...” _Because you have a beautiful voice and I could listen to it all day._

Kate divvied out the drawing paper. Max needed cards for her grandparents, her aunt and uncle, Joyce, Chloe, and her parents. Kate had actually met the Caulfields, who had come down from Seattle to see their daughter for Thanksgiving. They had naturally found her with the recovering girl, and had been absolutely lovely. Vanessa had immediately wrapped her up in a hug. Ryan had been a little more restrained, giving her a more relaxed handshake. The two had then proceeded to crush their daughter in what was less a hug and more a grip, praising her for her heroism in rescuing Kate. Max had adamantly tried to deny being anything close, until Kate had agreed. The brunette had promptly turned red, and reluctantly accepted that they all might have had a point.

Kate was making cards for her sisters and her parents. She had debated sending her aunt a card, but had decided against it. Maybe if her aunt had been supportive, she would have sent one. Her mother at least had been sorry for her contribution to her niece’s _attempt_ , but her aunt had made no indication her opinion had changed. Kate was pretty sure God would understand her decision.

The two quickly settled into the task, sketching away. They gave each other suggestions and feedback, but for the most part, that familiar silence took its usual place amongst them. That was one of the things Kate loved about Max. One of the _oh so many_ things. They didn’t need words sometimes, just a look, or a smile that warmed the blonde’s heart, or a touch. They just drew in each other’s company. Occasionally they traded glances, smiling before hurriedly returning to their tasks. It happened once, then again, and then it didn’t happen for a while.

* * *

The next time was different.

The sun had set, and the stars were out, and they were drawing by lamplight now. Max had asked to just turn on the desk lamp, because the stars were out and she wanted to be able to see them through the window. Kate had agreed with the sentiment. She had always loved the nighttime. Nighttime was a calmer time, free from the rush and worries of work and school that came with the daylight hours. And while the lighter hours were pretty, the darkness was nicer. The roads patched with orange streetlights; the yellows of illuminated windows…

And the sky.

It was beautiful to see the darkness painted with the light of the billions of stars. The moon’s calm, muted light and unwavering presence. The soft glow of the galaxy, unaffected by the minimal light pollution of rural Arcadia. It was like God had created this time for her: a display of all of His brilliant creation. And it reminded Kate that she was a part of that creation, that she was one of His children, and that He would always love her. 

After The Party, she hadn’t been outside much with the exception of going to classes. Unable to see the sky through her depression, she had forgotten. The first friday night she had spent in hospital, the windows had been left open. The night sky had shone through, as though God was reminding her of his love. The moon had shone on Max, asleep in a chair beside her bed, as though He was revealing one of his angels to the christian, as though he had sent the brunette to rescue her. And she had been reminded that He would always be there for her.

Kate glanced up at the angel he had sent her, and this time there was no hope of her looking away. Max sat lengthways on the bed, drawing the card for her parents on an old hardback copy. A family of deer on the edge of a forest and a stream, a buck and two does, the smaller doe wearing a santa hat as it snowed. Max paused to consider something, angling the drawing a little more towards the light. Her brows furrowed the tiniest bit, and her eyes held a calm focus on the drawing. She looked like she’s taking a picture, and Kate loved that look of focus and practiced confidence, like everything was easy. And Max draws almost as though it comes to her the same way it comes to Kate. Naturally, like she’s trying to pour her mind into the paper. The brunette of course, thinks about it differently to the blonde. More like she’s creating a photo than drawing. While the artist tries to create something from the concept of what she wants to convey, the photographer imagines definite things, then tries to position them in the scene. It’s an interesting distinction.

Kate watched Max drawing.

Max noticed the blonde watching her.

Max smiled at her. This adoring, beautiful smile that made her heart run at a blistering pace. She turned to face the brunette properly, and all she saw was Max. Max’s fluffy auburn hair that spilled out across her bed for so many nights in hospital when she fell asleep instead of returning to Blackwell. The soft, roundish features of the face that visited her daily, no matter the weather it had to walk through. Her eyes; deep sapphire oceans Kate loved getting lost in. The soft hands that had done _so much_ to help her. The constellation of freckles that reminded her of the stars. The lips that had spoken reassuring, healing words to her no matter what time it was. Max was still smiling that loving, adoring smile, and Kate’s heart was about to explode.

“Max?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” Max whispered back.

Anxiousness built in her stomach, but Kate was sure of herself this time. She wasn’t wrong for wanting this. She’s reminded He loves her every time she sees the stars. She was imperfect and flawed, but God had made her this way, gave her this love, and it would be wrong to waste one of His gifts. 

All she had to do was show it.

Her hand went to Max’s cheek, and Max leaned into her touch.

Kate closed her eyes, took the plunge, and…

Max stiffened for a moment, surprised, and the Christian worried that she misread and she’d ruined things forever and…

_oh._

Max was kissing her back.

She didn’t have a clue what she’s doing, but Max seemed to, so she followed her lead and wow, kissing Max is the best thing she’s ever done. It’s soft and warm and both calm and exhilarating and Kate practically melts.

It had to end eventually though, and Max pulled away. The blonde already missed the contact, but Max rests their foreheads together and she squealed internally. Max giggled, because apparently she accidentally vocalised some of that giddy squeak. Their faces were flushed, and they were grinning like idiots, but the artist was too happy to care.

“I love you” she blurted out, unable to contain the feeling any more.

“I love you too.” Max declared, giving her an extra peck for emphasis.

They both knew it, expressed in looks and touches and smiles for weeks. The two women sat together on the bed, drawing cards on copies and cuddling in the lamplight, exchanging short kisses and looks every now and then. Kate prayed later that evening, as they drifted off, leaning into the comfortable embrace of each other.

_Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given._

_\- John 1:16_

Kate would always thank God for sending her an angel. She fell asleep, holding the woman she loved.

* * *

Ryan and Vanessa sat on their sofa, opening the various cards from various relatives and friends. Joyce had sent a card this year, meaning Max and Chloe had gotten back in touch, which was amazing to see. They were always going to regret the move to some extent. Their parents had sent their traditional cards with horrific puns that bordered on outright unfunny. Keane, a friend of Ryan’s from his old job, had sent a card from his original home in Enniskerry, and had written his usual spiel about how they were pretend Irish and didn’t count, and how they should totally come round for drinks and a holiday at some point, sure wouldn’t it be great craic?

They had saved the last envelope deliberately, best ‘til last and all. A very cheesy yet heartwarming photo of their daughter and another girl, mid smooch, and a handmade card.

_To Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield._

_Merry Christmas, and blessings for the new year!_

_Maxine Caulfield & Kate Beverly Marsh. _

_P.S. Kate says my name is cute so I guess I don’t hate it as much._

The front was painstakingly hand-illustrated. A family of deer on the edge of a forest and a stream, a buck and two does. The smaller doe, wearing a santa hat, rubbed it’s nose with a black-and-white rabbit as it snowed.

**Author's Note:**

> So! I actually managed to get this done in time! I wasn't expecting that either. But here we are! I want to thank two fics and their writers: The Problems Kisses Cause by Clocksmith, and Fireworks Light Matches in the Rain by notoriousjae, Who were massively helpful in helping me understand just how significant Kate's religion is in her life. I don't have a clue if I did it justice or not, so please judge me, oh venerable reader.
> 
> Big thanks to my beta's, LazyLazer in particular who was extremely helpful with Kate's religious aspect. They're tagged as co-authors, check them out.
> 
> Still annoyed I couldn't figure out what denomination Kate is though. Whatever. I'm a pedantic fucker who loves details like that.
> 
> If you want to congratulate me, shout at me, or wish us a happy holidays, we have a discord: https://discord.gg/JVCdxtQ
> 
> I do love me some Marshfield, and I hope you liked this too. Seasons Greetings and such!
> 
> P.S. William's camera is a 600 series, because of the shape of the film. Spectra film, the type of Polaroid camera I commonly see people assuming William's camera is, is wider, and would be incompatible with Max's original camera. Given that she never buys new film, and the film doesn't look visually different, I see it as a Polaroid Impulse variant.


End file.
